


The first...no, the Second Kiss is the Sweetest

by sevsgirl72



Category: Psych
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2011-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:56:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevsgirl72/pseuds/sevsgirl72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was never about the first kiss, they were too awkward. But the second...The second was always the sweetest.</p>
<p>
  <img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Rating:** T for Teen  
>  **Warnings:** Violence  
>  **Spoilers:** Seasons 1  &2  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Shawn, Lassie-Face or Psych. They are all property of the USA Network. I am making no money from this.  
>  **Notes:** UnBeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

**1992**

  


"Shawn what have I told you,” Henry Spencer yelled upstairs, where he knew his son was hiding, and started making his way to the boy’s room, taking the stairs two at a time. “After school chores, then practice. You can't hide up in your room all the t...SHAWN!"

 

Barging through the door and into his son’s room, anger at a boiling point, what ever Henry had been about to yell stuck in his throat. There was Shawn, stretched out on his bed, someone plaster to him, lip-locked in what seemed to be a heated make-out session. It was the second time in a week that Henry had caught his son like this, and with what looked to be a different girl.

 

"Dad, knocking would be great."

 

Henry glared at his son, while the girl hid her head in Shawn’s chest.

 

"I’ve had enough of this Shawn. Twice is enough. You," Henry pointed at him dangerously "are grounded until further notice. And you," he now turned to the girl, face still obscured from view "are being taken home now, and your parents are going to find out what kind of girl you really ar..."

 

The words died on Henry Spencer’s lips, when 'she' finally turned around; it wasn't a girl at all.

 

"Dad this is Matt. Matt, this is my dad." Shawn said pointedly; a large rebellious smile on his face.

 

  
**2008**   


 

“Come on Gus, it’s just a strip club. What’s there to be so hesitant about? It’s not like you haven’t seen any of it before.”

 

“Shawn! It’s a gay strip club!” Gus yelled back. “I, unlike you, never went through the phase of making out with Matt Harris in my bedroom!”

 

“I’m not asking you to kiss anyone Gus. And it wasn’t just a phase,” Spencer said reasonably “I remember this one particular Adonis in Costa Rica. We went for long walks on the beach and…Gus?”

 

Gus started looking a little ill and started backing away from his friend. “I don’t want to hear about it Shawn. I’m not going.”

 

“What’s the problem?! It’s not like you’re going to change your name to Gregory and join a chorus line after one night in a strip joint.”

 

“I don’t have a problem with it Shawn; I just don’t want to hear about it and I don’t want to see it or even think about it. I’m not going with you.” Those were his final words before practically running for the door before Shawn could find some way to make him go.

 

“Best friends are supposed to have each others backs!” Shawn managed to shout out before the door slammed.

 

Shawn collapsed on the couch trying to figure out another way to go about this.

 

That morning, one Carina Ramirez had come to the office looking to hire them for a job. She was sure her husband was cheating on her, but had found none of the usual signs. He never smelt of some other woman’s perfume, no late night phone calls, no lipstick on the collar. Nothing. So she bought their services.

 

They had done the leg work for most of the day. In the end all it took was a scuff mark on Carlos Ramirez’s shoe, the smell of two separate men’s colognes and a palm tree to lead them to Magnum 54; the only strip club in town catering to gay males.

 

Shawn had the bright idea that they, Gus and himself, should go in undercover.

 

Obviously, that was out of the question now, he wasn’t completely comfortably going in alone, it had turned into a pretty seedy place since the days of his youth, but he didn’t have anyone else.

 

Or did he?

 

Shawn’s eyes lit up and a huge grin plastered itself across his face while he made a mad grab for his phone, dialing quickly.

 

“SBPD. Head Detective Lassiter.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Spencer, this better be good.”   
  
Carlton Lassiter stepped out of his Crown Vic in the middle of a deserted, badly lit, parking lot already glaring at Spencer in annoyance. It was bad enough that the man pranced about in front of him all day, but he was going to have to put up with it at night too? A man could only take so much.   
  
“Aw, come on Lassie, when have I ever disappointed you?”   
  
Rolling his eyes, Carlton leaned against the car with his arms crossed. “I don’t have all night Spencer, spit it out.”   
  
Shawn put his fingers to his temple closing his eyes and was silent for a moment, building up the dramatics. “I have visions of snow falling in side somewhere No! Not snow…powder. There were glasses, double images…mirrors. And a loud rumbling...”   
  
“Falling powder and mirrors lead you to a parking lot by the piers? Jesus, Spencer!” Lassiter pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, wondering why the hell he’d bothered.   
  
“Not here, silly pants. But somewhere close.” Shawn put his hands up again and then started sniffing. “Gun powder! I smell gun powder.”   
  
“That’s me you idiot!”   
  
Shawn got close and started sniffing at Carlton’s arms and hands, while the detective shifted uncomfortable at his antics; Lassiter was not amused.   
  
“You’re right.” Shawn chirped, “but it’s coming from somewhere else. I smell it with my third eye.”   
  
“Smelling with your third eye?” Lassiter echoed doubtfully.   
  
Shawn didn’t hear him but continued as if the spirits were leading him somewhere, and he took off toward the club. Lassiter looked at his car than back at his pseudo colleague deciding whether to leave the man or not. The chief would have his head if he let the psychic go off and get him self killed or maimed, not to mention Spencer Sr.   
  
Grumbling something about annoying psychics and police brutality cases, Lassiter started toward where Shawn had stopped jerking himself around and was now calling him to the corner of the street.   
  
“I told you! Gun powder means gun which means, magnum! It’s the club, Magnum 54” Shawn bounced around and pointed toward the club as soon as Lassiter turned the corner. “Looks like we’re going undercover Lassie!”   
  
Lassiter blinked at him before grabbing his phone and dialing “I’m calling O’Hara.” Shawn, thinking quick, grabbed it from the detective’s hand and held it away from him.   
  
“Can’t do that.”   
  
“Spencer, give me back my phone! I’m not going in there with you as back up, if there is anything going on in there at all.”   
  
“Oh, there are definitely things going on in there,” Shawn grinned, “but O’Hara won’t be able to help us.”   
  
“O’Hara is a perfectly capable detective. Give me my phone.” Shawn tried to keep it away, but was no match for Lassiter’s long arms. Grabbing for his phone, Lassiter pinned Shawn to the building by his wrists, ripping his cell out of his hand.   
  
“Ok, as proper as this is right now Lassie, we’re not even in the place yet.”   
  
The detective froze, looking down into Shawn’s mirth filled eyes and the position he had him in. With a blush very unbecoming of him, but what Shawn would call cute later on when talking to Gus, Carlton let go of the man quickly, and gave him a bit of space.   
  
“What are you talking about?”   
  
“It’s a strip club...for guys.”   
  
“Strip clubs are for men, Spencer.”   
  
“Yeah, but this is ONLY for men.” Shawn winked at him.   
  
It took a second for his understanding to register, but when it did Lassiter’s eyes went wide. He took a few giant steps away from Shawn, frowning deeply. Going into a gay strip club with Shawn Spencer sent sirens going off in his head. This was either a sick joke that will only end in his embarrassment, or a really bad dream.   
  
“Come on!” Shawn threw up his hands, “You aren’t going to freak out on me like Gus did are you? I thought you were a better cop than that Lassie.”   
  
“What does this have to do with me being a cop?”   
  
“Well, if you can’t play any part undercover…” Shawn knew he had him with that because the detective immediately squared his shoulders and looked down at him seriously.   
  
“Fine,” Lassiter grabbed Shawn’s arm, and stalked toward the club. “You have an hour.”   
  
The minute they got through the doors, Lassiter was already regretting it. Why couldn’t he have said five minutes?


	3. Chapter 3

Magnum 54 was a pretty seedy looking place, but lively. There were three men working on poles, and half a dozen out serving drinks and giving ‘private’ dances.   
  
Shawn laughed at Lassiter’s attempt to look everywhere except at the men, and linked his arm with the detective’s pulling him towards a booth in the furthest corner.   
  
“Ok, so I’m your boyfriend, you’re a lawyer, and we’re only here for a drink and a bit of eye entertainment.” Shawn whispered to his new ‘date’. “You’re Lassie O’Callaghan, and I’ll just be you’re Little Pookie.” He’d had the whole story worked out for them. It was really too bad that Gus left so fast this morning, Shawn was sure there was money in getting Lassie to call him Pookie.   
  
“I am not calling you Po…that.” Carlton growled and tried wiggling out of Shawn’s grasp, but the infuriating man just held on tighter.   
  
“You’ll have to if you don’t want anyone to make you. And can you at least try to look like you enjoy this. It’s not like I’m Carroll Todd.”   
  
Lassiter barked a ‘fine’ at him, and stopped, but he couldn’t keep himself from walking stiffly.   
  
Shawn started nattering on about one thing or another, playing the part, or as Carlton knew just being his annoying self, but he only caught words of it until they were secreted away in a booth at the far end of the club.   
  
“I’m going to go get some drinks, be back in a flash.”   
  
Leaving the table, Shawn blew a kiss to Lassiter before making his way to the bar. He easily caught sight of his Mr. Ramirez, currently occupied by a man in a cowboy costume, complete with thong and chaps. Taking a minute to admire the dancers, while waiting for the drinks, Shawn caught looks from a few men around the bar, and preening his ego a bit, he made sure to put a sway on his step while he walked back to the table. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could get a number or two before they left and meet up with someone once he let Lassie back to his normal, very hetero life.   
  
“There’s a booky in the back, and the man at the end of the bar is selling coke out of his pocket.” Shawn said in rushed hush tones when he returned to Lassiter with an accomplished smile. “I told you I saw snow.”   
  
Lassiter made no sign of whether he was listening to Shawn, but he definitely too aware of him when the man slid up next to him, his side plastered against his own. Before he began thinking about it, Carlton took the offered drink and quickly put away a huge gulp for courage; he needed it. The taste surprised him though, and his eyes shot up to meet Spencer’s watchful ones.   
  
“This is Glenfiddich.”   
  
“Only the best for you Lassie-Face.” Shawn purred in his ear.   
  
Lassiter jumped a bit at the voice; somehow the man had just managed to upset his entire opinion in him with a simple drink order and sentence. Really it wasn’t that he was homophobic, but he did come from an Irish-Catholic family. That was enough to put the jump in anyone when it came to over-friendly people of the same sex. And the drink; Taking another sip of his drink, enjoying the taste of the expensive scotch, Lassiter attempted to relax back into his seat, and hesitantly put his arm around Shawn while keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings.   
  
The move put a smile on the psychics face, it had been a while since he’d cuddled up to a man, but Shawn quickly settled into Lassiter. He’d forgotten how nice it was to have a strong arm around him; something women definitely couldn’t give him.   
  
After a few minutes of silence between them, Shaw started to get restless. He had a job to do, he couldn’t forget that and well, sitting quietly was not something he did very well. Making the excuse of getting another drink, he bounded away with wink back at Lassiter.   
  
With Shawn gone, Carlton took stock of all the violations he could see: definitely underage dancers, the drugs, prostitution had to be in there somewhere to. This place was definitely a front for something. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter now though, Lassiter was sure his life was never going to be the same after this whether he walked out of here with an arrest or not. And just to prove him right, a shadow suddenly descended on the table obscuring the hypnotic amber liquid in his glass.   
  
“Hey there handsome, how about a dance?”   
  
***   
  
Shawn went about here and there looking for anything else he could find before finally taking up a perch at the bar. He could see his mark clearly, the cowboy now gone and replaced with a ripped man with a top hat, bow tie and very very short shorts. Shawn licked his lips ready to get down to business and was just getting himself in a position to snap some pictures with his cell when he took a glance over his shoulder. Just wanting to see how Lassiter was getting along, Shawn expected to see him staring blatantly into his scotch like he had the first time he’d check, but instead he found a red faced Lassiter currently being privy to a dance by a man decked out like Rocky with gold shorts, and he looked about ready to start shooting.   
  
“Hey, get your paws of my man!” Shawn screeched rushing to the rescue. Slipping between the two and plopping himself in Lassiter’s lap with a possessive glare aimed at the man.   
  
Carlton cleared his throat shifting uncomfortably under the sudden weight of the man now occupying his lap; he wouldn’t deny his thanks at being rescued though and quickly followed Shawn’s lead, wrapping an arm around his waist possessively.   
  
“Hun, is this little alley rat really yours?” The stripper asked Lassiter with a laugh.   
  
He opened his mouth about to start spouting his rights to arrest him for assault, Shawn however, cut in before he could get a word out.   
  
“Yeah Andrea, I’m his. Now back off before I ask my Lassie-Face to subpoena you or something.”   
  
“My name’s James.” He stared back stubbornly.   
  
“Andrea.” Shawn emphasized the name with an angry glare. “Scram.”   
  
The striper eyed the odd pair suspiciously, before shrugging and speaking directly to Lassiter. “Fine law man, if you’re going to waste your time with that, who am to stop you?” The half naked man walked away with one last seductive look at Lassiter, who shuddered with disgust in reply.   
  
A look of hurt flittered across Shawn’s face at the glib remark but he quickly covered it up with a grin, fastening his arm around the stunned detective’s neck, while Lassiter could think of nothing else but to ask him about Andrea   
  
“The jealous lesbian in ‘Windows’.” Shawn smiled down at the confuse look on Lassiter’s face. “The woman she loved was dating a Detective. Really bad movie of violent unrequited love; I wouldn’t recommend it.”   
  
Shawn was enjoying his perch, he’d never really thought about the detective that way, but he couldn’t help feeling that they were a pretty good fit. Through his entire general unpleasant attitude toward him and what he did, Lassiter often surprised him, like getting his bike back after it was compounded. It left him questioning who the man really was all of the time. It was no doubt that he definitely had his own charm too and not to mention his arm was still clamped rather tightly around him.   
  
“Lassie, you’re still holding me.” Shawn whispered in a ghost of a breath close to the man’s ear.   
  
As if suddenly burnt, Carlton let go of the younger man’s waist and pushed the man off. Shawn just barely caught himself from falling to the floor.   
  
“Geez, you could have just asked me to get off. It worked the first time.”   
  
Carlton did at least have the decency to look apologetic before getting up and ushering the man toward the door; this whole experience just went a bit to beyond his comfort level.   
  
“We are going. Now.”   
  
“You aren’t going to arrest anyone? I know at least one of those guys was underage.”   
  
“I don’t care.”   
  
“Aww, your poor handcuffs are going to be so lonely.”   
  
Lassiter opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut choosing instead to point Shawn toward the car.   
  
Why Carlton drove the menace home, he didn’t know, but the whole ride was spent in silence until he pulled up to the curb in front of the apartment. Shawn said a simple goodnight, and started to get out of the car when Lassiter grabbed his shirt stopping him, and looking rather murderous.   
  
“For what ever reason you dragged me in that place Spencer, I don’t care. But I swear to god if you ever mention this night, I’ll make sure they never find your body.”   
  
Shawn frowned at him, and sighed looking completely deflated, it couldn’t have really been that bad could it? Nothing extraordinary happened and it’s not like they ended up sleeping together in a drunken stupor. He knew what was the problem though, it was the same problem his dad had had back in 1992; cops couldn’t be gay, or be associated with the gay world.   
  
“I won’t say anything Detective Lassiter, wouldn’t think of hurting your illustrious career.”   
  
With that, Shawn ripped his shirt out of Lassiter’s hand and left without another word leaving the detective confused at to what really just happened. He shook it off, it was only Shawn after all, and he didn’t even like the man.


	4. Chapter 4

“Lassiter, O’Hara, I want you two on this homicide. There might be a bit of press on this one.”   
  
The chief handed the file off to O’Hara, while Lassiter started to fix up his tie, making sure it was good and tight. After last night, there was nothing like a murder to put everything back to normal.   
  
“If it’s going to cause a stir, I’ll just call a press conference right a way then. Make sure the public knows we’re on top of it. ”   
  
“I don’t think you want to do that detective. Read the file first.” Vick warned before disappearing into her office.   
  
“Young Male found in an alley next to a club near the pier, Magnum…”   
  
Carlton was sure he’d suddenly gone deaf; he turned to his partner stunned. He could see O’Hara’s mouth moving, but his mind couldn’t get passed name.   
  
“Mag-Magnum?”   
  
“Yeah, Magnum 54, I heard some bad stories from the uniforms about that place. You know it?”   
  
Lassiter grabbed the file from her, glancing quickly at the initial report, when his face went completely white. “Go wait in the car; I need to make a call.”   
  
“Can’t you call from the …” From the look she was getting from her partner, Juliet just held her hands up, and left. Today was definitely not going to be a good day.   
  
The phone rang and rang, each sound making him twitch. One hour with that hurricane of a psychic and now he career was over. He, no, they, were going to get dragged through the mud with this.   
  
The phone clicked on to the answering machine.   
  
‘Hi, this is Shawn…but if you’re looking for money, this is actually Mr. Phillips…I’m not here, leave a message.’   
  
“Spencer!” Lassiter yelled through the receiver, “I know you’re there, pick up the god damn ph…”   
  
“As much as I love you Lassie, this is just a little too early in the morning.”   
  
“I don’t care. You need to meet me right. Now.”   
  
“Can’t this wait till noon? It isn’t even time for breakfast yet.”   
  
“It’s 9 o’clock!”   
  
“Exactly. I pity the fools that get up this early.”   
  
Lassiter started issuing violent scenarios about what would happen to the man if he didn’t get his ass over to Magnum asap; most of them ending with him either shooting or arresting Shawn.   
  
“If I knew you were this kinky Lassie I would have thought a little harder about last night.”   
  
“Spen…”   
  
“Okay okay.”   
  
The line went dead immediately, leaving Shawn a bit confused and staring at the handset. He’d heard Lassiter angry before, but that was just weird. Shrugging it off, he slipped on the freshest pair of jeans he could find and one of his many novelty t-shirts, noting to himself the he probably needed to do laundry at some point this year, before grabbing his helmet and jumping on his bike wondering if he had time to get a Pineapple Jamba-Juice.   
  
***   
  
“Hey, Jules, Lassie!”   
  
Both detectives turned from the scene to see the psychic jogging toward them; Juliet looking rather shocked at his sudden, and very early appearance. “Shawn what are you doing here?”   
  
Shawn glanced at Lassiter in question, but the man’s stone cold eyes were his only answer; he obviously hadn’t told Jules that he’d called, and definitely not about last night. “Oh, you know, I followed some really dark psychic vibrations. Led me here to this ahh…” Shawn took a quick look, around the two and at the scene behind them. “…murder.”   
  
“Oh, well, did you see anything else?”   
  
“No, I can’t say I did Jules. I might just need to get a bit closer to the body and feel.”   
  
“I don’t think so Spencer; it’s not a nice sight.” The words slipped out or Lassiter’s mouth before he even realized it; why the hell was he trying to protect the man now. The shock must have registered in his face too, because both Shawn and Juliet looked at him oddly.   
  
“I’m sure I can help with this one Lassie.”   
  
Lassiter didn’t really have any more argument; he was the one who called him here in the first place and grudgingly stood aside to let Shawn duck under the tape, scared of how the man was going to react.   
  
“Alright, I’m seeing dancing…oh very naked dancing… naughty boy. I’m also seeing…” Just as Shawn was zoning out to see everything he could, the coroner moved the sheet from the body, and he saw them. The gold shorts. He knew those shorts “Oh God!”   
  
“Shawn what is it!” Juliet ran to his side, but Shawn’s eyes were frozen to Carlton’s; the common understanding hitting them both hard.   
  
“Andrea”   
  
“What?”   
  
Shawn covered Juliet’s question quickly, eyes not leaving Lassiter’s “Don’t worry about it Jules. I lost it. I’m getting crossed messages, some co-ed named Andrea is just around the corner.”   
  
“Too bad. Well, I’m going to go get the bouncer’s statement, and get the security tapes.”   
  
Shawn waited while Juliet walked away into the club before he started freaking out.   
  
“Lassie! It’s Andrea!”   
  
“I can see that.” The man said looking rather miffed.   
  
“But what…we, he…” Shawn went still and looked up to Lassiter; horrified. “Lassie I yelled at him! His last night on Earth and I yelled at him.”   
  
Carlton was taken a back. He’d never thought of the Spencer as the empathetic type, but from the look in his eyes, he almost seemed disgusted with himself. Looking around at the uniforms all around them, Lassiter took Shawn by the arm and pulled him around the building throwing him against the wall.   
  
“Yes, you yelled at him, and now he’s dead. You didn’t kill him and who ever did will be caught. But that’s not the point. Spencer, we’re going to be on those tapes! We’ll be suspects!”   
  
“I’ll just tell the chief you were helping me out with a case…which you, kind of, were.” Shawn looked down toeing the ground not wanting to see what ever level of anger and hate was on the detectives face right now; he’d really fucked up this time.   
  
Lassiter looked as if he’d been punched. “I’m in this because you needed a paycheck?!”   
  
“You could have said no.”   
  
“And let a menace like you go undercover without backup? That could be you!” Lassiter yelled pointing at the body.   
  
“Worried about me Lassie-Face?” Shawn said weakly; anything to try and lighten the mood.   
  
“Chief Vick would have my badge if I hadn’t, and your father would have had my head. I have no job now thanks to you. It’s over.”   
  
Shawn hesitantly laid a hand on Lassiter’s arm, who in turn glared at the offending hand. Carlton wanted to rip away but didn’t have the chance. When Juliet rounded the corner with Gus, who he’d called before leaving his place, Shawn dropped the hand quickly taking a step away from Lassiter.   
  
“Hey, I thought you guys ran off on me. I talked to the bouncer, he didn’t see anything.” Stopping her report, O’Hara looked oddly between the two, the look on their faces were something completely foreign to her. Gus wasn’t fooled, he knew after last night that Shawn knew something about all of this and knew there was going to be trouble.   
  
“Is everything alright Shawn?” O’Hara asked worriedly.   
  
“Fine Jules.”   
  
“Detective Lassiter?”   
  
“What about the club owner O’Hara?” He said impatiently.   
  
“I was just about to go looking for him.”   
  
A man suddenly appeared out of a side entrance, he had long hair, a bright smile and a skin tight red shirt with leather pants.   
  
“No need to look detective, you’ve found him.”   
  
The group all turned around, all a bit surprised at the abrupt entrance, but the man only had eyes for one of them.   
  
“Shawn!” The man smiled predatorily. “I haven’t seen you here in a while.”   
  
“Matt?!” Shawn practically squeaked out startling everyone to turn and stare at him.   
  
Lassiter glared at Shawn, whose face had gone bright red and a creeping look of dread was slowly filling his eyes.   
  
Gus looked like he was about to faint.


	5. Chapter 5

To say Carlton hated Matt Harris from the start would be an understatement. The man treated them all as if he knew some grand secret, but more specifically, he treated Shawn as if he owned him.   
  
“Where were you last night Mr. Harris?”   
  
“Here of course. Upstairs with Hugo for most of it.”   
  
“And the rest of the time?”   
  
“Well I came down here to take care of a complaint from one of my boys, then once for a tequila refill. Oh and once more to get Juan when his shift finished.” O’Hara was writing it all down, noting which people they had to talk to after, Gus standing behind her hoping not to have to get into any of this. Really, it seemed like a straight forward, police case. Psych’s services weren’t needed. But as far as he knew, Shawn had been here last night, and now was acting decidedly un-Shawnishly. Lassiter could only glare at Matt, doing his best to size him up, while trying to keep an eye on Shawn who’d moved to stand beside him.   
  
“Shawnie, why so quiet? I remember you having a hard time shutting up. It’s not like we don’t know each other. Won’t you at least come and sit with me,” Matt patted the cushion next to him, “moral support and all that.”   
  
Everyone was either confused of shocked when Shawn did as the man commanded without a word, and it had been a command whether it sounded like it or not. It wasn’t hard to see that Shawn sat down stiffly on the couch, with a good foot gap between them; one that Matt covered quickly hopping over until their thighs were next to each other.   
  
Lassiter started asking questions about the night, acting more like the tough interrogator than just a canvassing cop. The man irritating him in the casual and careful way he answered questions, and that sickeningly slimy smile he kept on his face, made him want to slap the cuffs on him and stick him in a cell with some giant murderer named Bulldog and whatever power he had over Shawn, just made him want to shoot him.   
  
As they wrapped up the questioning, Lassiter and Juliet left quickly on the tail of Gus who’d run out the minute the last words were said. No one noticed that Shawn wasn’t with them until they were outside when Lassiter had turned to tell the man that he wasn’t allowed on the case as he was obvious acquainted with the main suspect.   
  
“I’ll go get him, you can leave Guster. I’m not letting you two anywhere near this case.”   
  
Lassiter disappeared before O’Hara could ask what was going on, but she wasted no time on getting something out of Gus.   
  
“How does Shawn know that guy?”   
  
Gus shifted uneasily, he wasn’t going to betray Shawn, and so he was as vague as possible. “We went to school with him.”   
  
“What, was he some sort of bully then?” Jules asked completely confused.   
  
“No, nothing like that. I have to get to work.” He left the detective standing at the door, something he would never usually do, but the whole thing just made him nervous. He hoped Shawn was going to be ok; Harris always left destruction in his wake.   
  
***   
  
Once again, Shawn was in trouble. He’d gotten himself into a mess, and this time no backup could be seen. Matt was talking close to him, backing him up against the wall until he couldn’t move without causing more bodily contact with the man; so he refused to move an inch. Letting his mind wander, Shawn wished Matt would just yell. Yell and scream instead of just talking to him softly, his lips almost touching his ear. It always made him feel so much smaller and everything seem more dangerous.   
  
“So you’ve been in Santa Barbara all this time? And not a word to me? Did you think I wouldn’t find out Shawn? And you’ve become the cops little butt boy. You like your men in uniform now?”   
  
Shawn let a squeak out when one of Matt’s hands went traveling down his side to rest just on the waist of his jeans, a finger slipping just underneath caressing his hip. He shuddered violently.   
  
“Missed this didn’t you?” Matt grinned toothily at the reaction. “You were always such a little slut.”   
  
The scene that Lassiter walked into was so surreal and earth shattering that he was left just staring stalk still until Shawn’s eyes turned up to see him. There was helplessness in those eyes that threw Lassiter’s world flying off its axis. Shawn was never helpless.   
  
Shawn didn’t want Lassiter here. He didn’t want him to know, he didn’t want anyone to know. He never wanted to see Matt again. The man always managed to leave him broken and in pieces, but every time Matt swept into his life, with his charm and his body, Shawn was sucked in. It wasn’t going to happen this time. It couldn’t happen this time. In those frozen seconds he realized that there was someone else he wanted, no matter how unrequited it was, he wasn’t going to hurt that.   
  
Shawn started struggling with Matt, trying to push him away. The man was going to have none of that, and in a moment he slapped Shawn; hard.   
  
Lassiter was there in a second and grabbed Harris’s wrist before he could bring it down again, flinging him into the middle of the room, putting himself bodily in front of Shawn and resting his hand on his gun.   
  
“I will arrest you if you every lay a hand on that man again.” Lassiter growled trying to stay in his cop persona. Spencer might not be a cop, but he was still a part of the department, and if you mess with one of them, you get all of them. But, Carlton thought to himself, would he really feel like ripping the man limb from limb if it was anyone other than Spencer?   
  
Matt’s eye narrowed at the detective, but was smart enough not to directly engage him. Instead he chose to look around him and back at Shawn with a sneer.   
  
“Got yourself a white knight here Shawnie, but you better set him straight. You were mine first, don’t forget it.”   
  
Matt left without a backward glance.   
  
Lassiter turned on Shawn, who was doing his best to look everywhere but at the detective. Carlton wasn’t going to stand for it; he needed the story now, before they dug their graves any deeper.   
  
“Spencer…Shawn, tell me everything.”   
  
Shawn looked up at him through his lashes to see the serious look on the detectives face, and something else he couldn’t place.   
  
No, it wasn’t going to happen this time. Matt wasn’t going to happen this time.


	6. Chapter 6

“He was my first boyfriend and my third, fourth...and maybe the seventh too.” Shawn tried smiling, tried to say it jokingly, but it all came out in a grimace. “It ended badly, each time. Guess he can’t let go.”   
  
Sure it was enough to satisfy the detectives question, Shawn made to brush past Lassiter, but once again was thwarted but the man’s far reach and stood fidgeting under the detective’s suddenly burning gaze.   
  
“Look Lassie, it doesn’t matter.”   
  
“It does Spencer,” Lassiter said in disbelief at this new dour Shawn that he’d never met before. “He’s just become the number one suspect in a murder investigation, and assaulted you.”   
  
Shawn couldn’t miss the fact that he was in Lassiter’s list of things that mattered, in a twisted cop-ish way, but it didn’t change anything.   
  
“If he is the suspect, then you don’t need me anymore, do you?”   
  
Shawn manage to push past the detective this time, and did what he was good at, he ran; literally. Lassiter followed slowly, confused as to what had really just happened, and by the time made it to the door, it was just to see Shawn pulling out of the parking lot with his Motorcycle. Leaving the detective frighteningly aware that what ever understanding he had of the man, it had just crumbled to dust, leaving him shaken. Somehow he knew Spencer wasn’t just leaving to go back to his office; he was leaving and never coming back.   
  
He didn’t like Spencer, he was a menace, and yesterday, Lassiter wouldn’t have cared if the man just up-ed and left, but now; now he didn’t know what to think, except that he couldn’t let Spencer disappear now, he actually needed the psychic after he’d so wonderfully gotten them both wrapped up in this mess, and it looked like he might need Lassiter, if this Matt was anywhere close to the type of person he thought he was.   
  
“Lassiter? What was that all about?”   
  
O’Hara made him jump as she came up beside him. “What was the matter with Shawn, he ran right passed me and not ever a wo…”   
  
“O’Hara, put a BOLO out for Shawn’s motorcycle.” Lassiter interrupted, “with a note that he is to be taken to the station and held for questioning.”   
  
“Can we do that? He works with us.”   
  
“Just do it O’Hara.”   
  
As O’Hara walked away already on the radio, Lassiter felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. When he turned around taking a final look at the club, there, in the upstairs office window, was the smirking face of Matt Harris.   
  
Sneering as the man gave an insolent little wave at him, Carlton stalked off toward the car where O’Hara was waiting.   
  
***   
  
“Detective Lassiter! Why is there a BOLO out on Shawn Spencer?! Henry’s called me three times already!”   
  
Chief Vic had pounced on the pair of detectives the minute that were back in the station, looking frazzled and pissed off, that really only three calls from Spencer Sr. could have sparked. O’Hara shrugged at the chief and they both ended up staring at Lassiter for the explanation.   
  
“I needed to stop Spencer from leaving.”   
  
“And why is that detective?”   
  
Lassiter pinched the bridge of his nose and with deep breath, he attempt a calm voice. “Because he was at Magnum the night of the murder.” The two women made a very similar gasp and the chief asked the obvious question.   
  
“Did he murder the man?”   
  
Lassiter shook his head with a definite ‘no’.   
  
“Then why do you want to arrest him?”   
  
“Material witness. Chief, I’m going to go talk to Mr. Spencer while O’Hara looks through those security tapes, chief.”   
  
Vic and O’Hara glanced at each other, Lassiter acting stranger than usual made them both feel uneasy and so she let him go; not to mention it was better him facing the angry Henry than her. He caused it after all.   
  
***   
  
For a man who swore he wasn’t close to his son, Spencer Sr. Sure looked about ready to punch the haggard detective when he had answered the door.   
  
“Lassiter, what the hell do you think your doing?”   
  
“Keeping your son in Santa Barbara.”   
  
“What are you talking about? I talked to him this morning on his way to your crime scene.”   
  
“Remember that one day we went fishing, you told me about how he always runs when things get difficult.”   
  
“Yeah, of course I remember.”   
  
“Well he did it again, or he is going to do it if a patrol doesn’t pick him up.”   
  
Henry stared hard at Lassiter, trying to control the anger that always seemed to flare up when ever he thought of Shawn’s stupid stunts. “What did he do this time?”   
  
Lassiter laid it all out for him: the stunt at Magnum, the crime scene and finally Matt Harris. He did have enough sense to leave out the part where he’d assaulted Shawn. But all the important details were there.   
  
“So you’re telling me, that my son dragged you into a gay-strip club, mixed you up in a murder and now you’re coming to me say you are actually doing me a favour by attempting to arrest the idiot.”   
  
Lassiter cringed inwardly, he wouldn’t have put it in those words, but it was true and he said so.   
  
“Just call me when you get him back Lassiter. It’s time he learned he can’t run forever.” Henry said with a hint of thankfulness in his voice before giving the detective a little smirk. “And what ever else happened, that you so kindly left out of your little report there, you better make sure it doesn’t happen again.”   
  
***   
  
When Shawn left the crime scene, he wasn’t really sure where he was going to go, but it was going to be far, far away, from Santa Barbara. He figured that he’d just retrace his steps and go the same route he went trying to get away from Matt the last time.   
  
So on he went, not even bothering to get any of his things, knowing Gus would try and stop him; he’d just pick it all up on the way to where ever. He wasn’t sure he was actually going to do it until he got his bike onto the 101 and started going North. Shawn swore he wasn’t leaving the highway until nightfall or until he got to King City. It had been almost 8 years since he’d been there. It was basically a hole in the ground, and perfect for the way he was feeling right now. He wondered if he could get his grocery bagging job back that he had had. It would be a start.   
  
It wasn’t to be however.   
  
Shawn had just barely gotten to Goleta when the all too familiar blue and red flashing light were blinking at him in his mirror. As much as he wanted to, he was not stupid enough to run from the cops, all he could do was hope that this was just for a bit of speeding. At least he could handle a ticket.   
  
“Mr. Spencer, please step off the bike and put your hands on your head.”   
  
Nope, definitely not just a ticket.   
  
***   
  
Lassiter had been sitting at his desk, rolling over the past 12 hours in his head. Debating whether to tell the chief he had been there that night with Spencer or wait till O’Hara saw it on the tapes; Either way, it was going to be bad and he’d probably suspended, or close to it, until the end of the investigation. He’d been staring at the general hustle of the station when suddenly everything went still and silent. For a second, he had no idea what was going on, a pin could have dropped and sound like a cannon, but then he finally saw; Shawn Spencer, the resident psychic of the SBPD was being led, silently, into interrogation by a patrol man.   
  
That was his cue. After Shawn was in there, Lassiter finally got up. Ignoring the bad looks from the people around the place and O’Hara’s puzzled eyes he walked straight into the interrogation room.   
  
Shawn hadn’t taken the chair; instead choosing the floor in the far corner of interrogation. It wasn’t out of some rebellious need or anything, but he just wanted to make sure he had everything in his line of sight. That and he didn’t want the probing gazes through the one-way glass.   
  
He was watching the door when it finally opened again; he’d been hoping it would be Juliet so he didn’t need to deal with Lassie’s accusing glare. He wasn’t that lucky and Juliet wasn’t even with him.   
  
Lassiter’s first impression upon walking into the room had been that Shawn had managed a disappearing act until he heard the voice from the corner.   
  
“Really Lassiter? A BOLO?”   
  
“Come on Spencer, you were on your way out of here.”   
  
“Last I heard this is a free country. This isn’t going to stop me, you can only keep me hear for 24 hours and then what? Come this time tomorrow, I’ll be on the same highway out of here.”   
  
“You’re in the middle of a murder investigation Spencer.”   
  
“We both know I didn’t do it. And no body knows you were there with me, and when they do, we’ll alibi each other.”   
  
Lassiter walked over to the sitting man, looming over him.   
  
“And Harris?” Lassiter asked rather viciously which he quickly regretted from the way it made Shawn jump.   
  
Shawn didn’t like this at all. Matt was probably tracking him down all over town. No doubt he already knew where the Psych office was, and his apartment was - Henry’s and Gus’ too. No doubt had people watching them all too. Matt knew he rarely missed a thing and knew his time was limited; unless there was no Shawn to provide evidence. Here he’d be okay, so maybe he’d use this to his advantage, 24 hours in a holding cell would be just fine and maybe make the man think he’d made it out of Santa Barbara already.   
  
“Why do you suddenly care?” Shawn growled at him. “Oh no, I forgot, you don’t. You just want to make sure you don’t lose your precious badge.”   
  
“No, I want to catch a murderer.”   
  
“Come on Lassiter, we both know that Matt isn’t just a suspect, he obviously did it, you have no proof and you’re not going to get any, because I’m not helping. The minute I’m out of this room, you’ll never see me again. You’re in this for you, so I’m going to take care of me. I’ll send you a post card.”   
  
“We were solving murders here a long time before you got here.” Lassiter strode toward the door but turned back for a second. “And we don’t run away every time we get scared.”   
  
“You’d be scared too.” Shawn said to the empty room.   
  
***   
  
“I was at the club last night with Spencer.” Lassiter said walking straight into the Chief’s office.   
  
“What?!” The Vic started to yell out but stopped “…together?”   
  
“Yes…no…” Carlton grumbled at himself before trying to explaining. “Spencer called me last night, said he was getting a vision and told me to meet him. Something about drugs, he was going to go in alone, I couldn’t let him, and so we went in together. Spencer went off some where, the victim tried giving me a lap dance and Spencer yelled at him. We left right after that and I drove him home.”   
  
“Carlton,” the chief said slowly “You’re telling me this now?”   
  
“I wanted Spencer to be here so we can get it out of the way quickly. Neither of us did it chief.”   
  
“I have no doubt of that, but you didn’t call your partner? Not even a call to the station?”   
  
“I was off duty, I thought I would…” Lassiter stopped. What would it look like if he said he wanted to make sure the man didn’t do anything to get himself hurt? He could lie, he should lie. He’d done it enough already, one more wasn’t going to hurt and it wasn’t completely a lie. “I didn’t want him disturbing the case I was already working on regarding the club. It is a front for something chief, and the owner is definitely the murderer. We just have no evidence yet.”   
  
O’Hara chose that moment to walk in with her revelation about the security video, but the chief stopped her before anything more could be said.   
  
“Yes, O’Hara, Lassiter was there with Mr. Spencer.” The chief said before eyeing Lassiter warily. “I don’t want this to be a habit Carlton. Just keep the rest above board and close this. And let Mr. Spencer go.”   
  
“Chief I don…”   
  
“Let him go. I can’t have you arresting witnesses, let alone casual employees.”   
  
Lassiter knew an order when he heard, and though his shoulders sagged, he just said ‘yes’ and headed back into the interrogation room, ignoring O’Hara’s following questions.   
  
***   
  
“Come on Spencer, chief said I have to let you go.”   
  
“About time,” Shawn got up dusting his pants off. “Knew the chief wouldn’t let me down. Good try though Lassie.” Lassiter followed right behind him giving Shawn the feeling that the man was just waiting for him to say it’s a joke and give him the answer to the crime so the pseudo-psychic could help but rub in the fact he was leaving. “Now I’m craving some serious Jamba Juice. I’ll hit that right on my way to the highw…”   
  
Shawn stopped abruptly as they turned into the hall. There, standing casually by the desk sergeant, was Matt. Shawn watched with a sinking terror as the man’s eye fell onto him and a large toothy grin spread across his face.   
  
“Oh Shawn, I’m so glad they are letting you go. We need to get caught up.”   
  
He’d thought he had been trapped just being in the interrogation room, but now he wanted nothing more that to be back there. So Shawn did the first thing he could think of: He grabbed Lassiter’s tie and yanked him closer, crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. The detective eyes went wide but he didn’t push the man away, or move at all for that matter and only one thing crossed his mind: No man should have lips like that.   
  
Shawn broke the kiss still holding onto Lassiter’s tie turning around to the silent members of the SBPD “Everyone, I just assaulted Detective Lassiter, you’re all witness to that.”   
  
When he didn’t feel Lassiter move, Shawn turned back to him. “Detective, arrest me.” He then turned to look at Matt whose face was red with barely controlled anger. “It looks like our little slumber party will have to wait Matt.”


	7. Chapter 7

When Lassiter’s mind finally started working again, he grabbed Shawn by the back of his shirt and dragged him down to holding. The detective yelled at the sergeant on duty to scram while he shoved Shawn into an open cell; the poor guard didn’t need to be told twice.   
  
When he was sure no one else was around Lassiter stood unmoving just staring at Shawn. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say, because there was plenty. A ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing Spencer?!’ or god forbid he actually tell the man that punching him would have been better, because it would have; if Shawn had just hit him, his stomach wouldn’t feel like it was full of butterflies and his heart wouldn’t be hammering.   
  
“What the hell was that?”   
  
“Come on Lassie, a strapping Irish lad like yourself must know what a kiss is.”   
  
“Spencer, I’m not joking, I don’t mean the k…that! You are going to get yourself killed.”   
  
“Then shouldn’t you be happy?” Shawn tried to grin, but it ended up more like a grimace.   
  
Lassiter advanced on him and for a second Shawn felt like his scene with Matt earlier was going to play out all over again and he flinched before he could calm himself – this was Lassie, he’d never hurt him.   
  
Carlton didn’t miss the movement and he stopped and any anger he had left was quickly snuffed out.   
  
“Shawn, I’m trying to help you.”   
  
“Then lock me up or let me slip out the back.” He was goading Lassiter now, but he needed time to think, and he knew exactly which option the detective would choose. This had all gone way too far, too fast, and Matt wasn’t going to stop now even if he did manage to make a run for it. The cops were way too close this time.   
  
So they were at stalemate.   
  
Lassiter could let Shawn go, but a lot could happen between here and where ever Shawn would end up. The breadth of Matt’s reach was an unknown and a terrifying one, so he closed the cell.   
  
“You know next time it would be a lot more fun if you joined in Lassie.”   
  
For a second it looked as if the detective wanted to reply, but instead just shook his head and left quickly, leaving Shawn standing at the bars, watching his back until he was out of sight.   
  
***   
  
When Lassiter returned to the bullpen, everyone kept glancing at him as if he were going to explode at any given moment, but he was all business; it was the only way he knew how to cope with everything he was feeling.   
  
“O’Hara, was there anything at all on those tapes?”   
  
“Nope. There were only three cameras, one covering the front, one at the back and one covering the bar, and all with really grainy video. I just barely recognized you and Shawn.”   
  
“And the autopsy on the victim.”   
  
Juliet pulled out the report and gave it to him. “Stabbed once to the side and once to the back and the wounds have no distinguishing marks it was just a common kitchen knife - untraceable.”   
  
Lassiter sat down at his desk with a frustrated huff spreading the file out in front of him. Means, motive, opportunity and evidence – that’s what they needed. There was no doubt that Harris was capable of murder, and he definitely had the time to do it but why did he? Why James? Lassiter grabbed at the crime scene photos and spread them all out in front of himself. There had to be something here.   
  
That’s it.   
  
There had to be something there, unless he’d done this before. It was too perfect, the stab wounds with no hesitation, the body positioned and no forensic evidence.   
  
“O’Hara, get a list of all the places Matt Harris has lived and see if there are any unsolved murders matching ours.”   
  
***   
  
“Gus!” Shawn smiled as his friend was suddenly outside the bars. It had only been 2 hours since he’d been locked up, but staying anywhere that long without anything to distract him was an eternity, even with so much to think about. “They let you in here?”   
  
Gus shook his head. “Pure stealth Shawn like a-”   
  
“- Jackal. Again Gus?”   
  
“You know it. I’m invisible, like a… like a shadow.”   
  
“More like Snuffleupagus.”   
  
Gus glared at him affronted. “Sorry Gus.” Shawn said throwing up his arms. “You know I don’t mean it. How’s this, you’re stealthier than Ravage.” Transformers always smoothed things over with Gus, no matter the circumstances.   
  
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” They bumped fists through the bars and Gus grabbed the watch sergeant’s chair and sat down while Shawn flopped down onto the hard jail cell mattress.   
  
“So, you really kissed Lassiter?”   
  
“Yeah, and it was nice too. Or it could have been if the entire station wasn’t watching, and Matt wasn’t there. And if Lassiter kissed back.” Shawn stopped and huffed. “It was bad to the extreme. Like Molly Ringwald in ‘For Keeps?’ bad.”   
  
“That is bad…but it is Lassiter Shawn.” Gus gave him a rather disgusted face while saying the detective’s name.   
  
“Yeah it is.” Shawn rubbed his hands over his face. Yes, it was Lassiter they were talking about. Lassiter, the uptight, stressed out detective that he teased mercilessly. Lassiter who seemed to hate him, yet always came through in the end. Lassiter the man who would be an amazing kisser if given the chance, and oh, did he want to give him that chance.   
  
“He’s not going to press charges right?”   
  
“He won’t and the chief wouldn’t let him. Not once Matt’s in jail and we’re back solving cases.”   
  
“Does that mean you’re not going to run again?” Gus looked hopeful. They never talked about his disappearing acts before, Gus just always accepted that he’d wake up and Shawn would be gone. Then a postcard would come from some far away place every month or so until years would pass then one day Shawn would be back. If, despite what was going on right now or not, Shawn was talking about staying, actually talking about it, it was monumental.   
  
“There are still things I want to do around here. Plus I just finished getting the plans drawn up for a zip line between Henry’s and the office.”   
  
Truth was, well the zip line was true but not the only reason, someone actually tried to stop him from leaving. No one had ever done that before.   
  
“He’s really dangerous isn’t he?”   
  
“Who Lassie? No he’s like a giant lanky hedgehog: prickly on the outside soft on the insi…”   
  
“I mean Matt, Shawn.”   
  
“He killed that dancer Gus. And I yelled at him.”   
  
“At Matt?”   
  
“No, the dancer. He tried getting Lassie, I stepped in and yelled. And then Matt killed him; and he knows I know.” Shawn looked at him more seriously than he ever had before. “This guy has killed people.”   
  
“People? As in more than one?”   
  
Shawn didn’t answer and really Gus didn’t want to know more.   
  
***   
  
For another hour or so after Gus left, Shawn paced the floor remembering and running through every single thing he’d seen in Matt’s office. There had to be a clue that would lead them, without a doubt, to Matt but he’d been so distracted at the time between Lassiter, Matt, and the dead James, that there was something he was missing.   
  
He really needed to get out of here now and get another look, so all his attention moved to focus on the cell door. He knew it wasn’t impossible to get it open, but he wasn’t MacGuyver and was sorely lacking the paperclip, straw and elastic supposedly needed. He was about to give up even thinking about it when Buzz came in with some food for him.   
  
“Hey Shawn, I picked you up some food from that place you like down the street.”   
  
Shawn thanked him and started distracting Buzz enough that he could get the officer around to opening up the bars. “Just a little bit Buzz, so I won’t feel so much like a prisoner.”   
  
“But you are.” Buzz frowned. “And if you leave and Detective Lassiter finds out I’d…and then you’d be a fugitive and we’d have to hunt you down.”   
  
“Really Buzz? Do you really think I’d make a good fugitive? Look at this hair, nothing like Harrison Ford.”   
  
With in minutes Shawn was on his way out the back of the station. As much as he loved Buzz, sometimes the man just made it too easy Shawn thought to himself as he began jogging toward Magnum. This was his mess, as Lassiter so nicely knocked into his head, and he was going to clean it up.   
  
***   
  
“Lassiter look!” Juliet rushed toward her partner waving a file in the air, interrupting him as he was going over old SB unsolved cases with the same MO. “This just came in from Austin Texas. In 1996 there was an unsolved murder at a motel, The Hampton Inn. It was a suspected drug deal gone wrong. The lead suspect was Matt Harris and he was going to go down for it until someone came forward with an alibi.”   
  
“Great, so it is the same thing all over again.”   
  
“Not quite.” Juliet said, “But it’s not good.”   
  
Lassiter glared at her until she continued.   
  
“The alibi was working at the Inn at the time. But look at the name of the man who came forward on Harris’ behalf.”   
  
Lassiter grabbed the report and there in bold letters: Shawn Chilli Spenstar. There was no mistaking who that was and he was already bellowing the name on his way back down to holding.   
  
***   
  
Magnum looked really odd with none of its lights on was the first thought that came to Shawn’s mind as he peaked around the corner toward the club and the crime scene tape just made it look desolate. He hung back from the corner again and slumped against the wall, out of sight of the building he was about to sneak into. It was the same wall where Lassiter had pinned him the other night as he was trying to get his phone back. Up until that point he’d never really thought about Lassie in that kind of way. Sure he flirted with him, but he flirted with everyone, and now it was a different game altogether.   
  
Peaking around once more, he didn’t see anyone else around, so he jogged across the parking lot toward the side entrance; it was open. Warning bells went of inside Shawn’s head, but he ignored them. He had to do this.   
  
Slipping inside, it took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he remembered the way to Matt’s office – it was empty and everything was still in the same place as it had been during the interview. The place was still a crime scene or course, so it wasn’t surprising.   
  
Shawn shook his head trying to clear it as he began rummaging. The desk was filled with nothing but receipts and paperwork all common to owning a business. And there was nothing interesting about the tequila and beer bottles everywhere. Nothing.   
  
Sitting down on the couch, he sat looking the place over and over and there was nothing. He closed his eyes, rubbed a hand down his face and opened them again and something clicked in his mind. The pictures. There were photos covering all the walls. Men from the club dancing, serving drinks, and some that were nothing short of porn. Then he remembered: Matt was always taking pictures. Shawn put his hand on the seat next to him to lift himself off and something crinkled under his hand, from inside the cushion. He rubbed his hand across it and it was definitely rectangular. Almost manically ripping the pillows off, Shawn opened them and there they were.   
  
Pictures.   
  
The sick bastard took pictures.   
  
Shawn grabbed his phone and dialed.   
  
“Spencer!” Lassiter answered yelling so loud Shawn had to hold the phone away from his ear. “How did you get out of that cell?!”   
  
“I was an escape artist in the Mexican circus, but that doesn’t matter. I have the proof you need just get back to the club.”   
  
Shawn didn’t wait for a reply before hanging up. But just as he was about to get out of there, he heard something behind him, closer than should have been possible to get without him noticing, but he never even got to turn around. Something hit him hard in the back and he was thrown to the ground; the force of it sending him swimming into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

_~1996 Hampton Inn Austin Texas~_   
  
“There you go, enjoy your stay.” Shawn smiled widely and leaned over the desk towards the newly weds. “It’s the nicest bed in the place.” The woman giggled as Shawn winked at her and the man glared before leading his new bride toward the elevator leaving.   
  
A couple of years out of high school and 1500 miles away from home Shawn was finally feeling like he was just far enough away to be comfortable. He’d managed to hold this job for almost 6 months and he wasn’t even bored yet.   
  
You wouldn’t think that there could be as many interesting people in such an upscale place right in the middle of Texas, and there were the casual guests just passing by that weren’t all that noteworthy and the regulars, the ones that came for their weekly romps, had their own quirks that Shawn played with but the live-ins were the greatest to chum around with. Like Marvin, a lawyer in 103, was keeping an alligator in his tub (Of course, Shawn wasn’t supposed to know that, but it was hard to miss the scales the he’d often seen on the man’s pants and shirt not to mention the endless supply of steaks he was always buying.) and Mrs. Harrigan who had a different wig for every night of the week, each with it’s own name.   
  
So as Shawn he watched guests move around the lobby, and fielded a few calls he got caught up with writing out the latest ‘to do’ list for maintenance he had his back turned to the check-in counter when someone rang the little desk bell.   
  
“Just a second.”   
  
“Still keeping people waiting Shawnie? Always such a tease.”   
  
Shawn spun around with a big goofy grin. “Matt! what are you doing here?”   
  
“Well, you know I heard you’d disappeared to Nowheresville, Texas and I was passing through.”   
  
“Passing through?”   
  
“Miami. Can’t you tell?” Matt stepped back and did a little turn around to show off his clothes. Shawn let his gaze wander up and down, sure with the white suit he looked like he’d just walked out of a Miami Vice rerun.   
  
“I was always more of a Magnum man.”   
  
“Too much ‘stache. So,” Matt said, leaning over the counter, moving his sunglasses down his nose so he could look look Shawn straight in the eyes. “do you wanna ditch this place and play the Tubbs to my Crockett?”   
  
“Sounds fun, but I think I like it here.”   
  
“It’s just a job babe, you get them easily enough, but you won’t need one if you come. To Miami that is.”   
  
Matt had made jokes like that before, always when they were talking about leaving Santa Barbara together and setting up a life of beaches and parties in Mexico but it was always followed by a wink or a laugh – not this time.   
  
“I can’t.”   
  
“Dinner then?” Matt pleaded jokingly with a quirk of his lips.   
  
That always did it, and Shawn laughed and agreed.   
  
“Great, so mister concierge can I get two rooms?”   
  
“Two?”   
  
Matt nodded and pointed out the window to two black SUVs where three other men were waiting all in suits and sunglasses “Ground floor, ones that open onto the parking lot.”   
  
That didn’t sound like a request. Shawn, who hadn’t seen Matt in a couple of years, only knew him as the smooth talking guy that he’d seen talk his way into almost every club in Santa Barbara but this was different, there was something dangerous in his voice. Maybe dinner wasn’t a good idea.   
  
Finishing up the check in process, Shawn handed Matt the keys.   
  
“I’ll meet you out front at 8, babe.”   
  
As he watched Matt leave and throw a key to one of the guys standing next to the SUV, Shawn couldn’t beat down the weird feeling he had and as he watched the exchange between Matt and the other guys, though he couldn’t hear from inside, from Matt’s gestures alone he knew that he was giving the man an order; further evidence that this was not the Matt he’d known. Something was going on.   
  
***   
  
At the end of his shift, Shawn got a call from one of the rooms he’d given to Matt asking for more towels and not wanting to lose the opportunity to check things out he let his replacement take up manning the desk a little early so he could fulfill the request.   
  
A gruff voice growled at him to wait a minute once he’d knocked, so Matt was probably in the other room, but it sounded like all three of the other men he’d come with were in there because there was a lot of shuffling and muffled talking going on until the chain was removed from the door and unlocked for him.   
  
“Here are the towels you called for.” Shawn said as he started inside the room “I’ll just set these up in the washroom fo..”   
  
The man that’d open the door brought his arm down as a barrier between himself and the wall stopping Shawn from getting any further.   
  
“I’ve got them, now get out.”   
  
Just as Shawn turned there was a crash and loud scuffling sound coming from the washroom and the man barring the way left him to rush toward the sound. The ruckus continued until everything crescendoed into an oddly muffled bang and all sound stopped. Shawn, being as curious as ever stepped forward until he could just barely peek inside the doorway to see Matt, standing in the middle of the bathroom, with a gun, silencer on, pointed at a man tied in the bathtub; a now dead man.   
  
“You two,” Matt growled at two off the guys as he stepped out into the room, “clean this up, and leave it in the parking lot, near the back.”   
  
“Shawnie, always in the wrong places at the wrong time.” He snarled. “You and I are going to go to my room. Now.” Matt grabbed him by the back of his shirt, leading him.   
  
Though Shawn had seen dead bodies before, this was different and if Matt hadn’t had gotten him out of there, he was sure he would have passed out. But even as they got out into the hallway, everything felt like it was spinning and his steps faltered, but Matt helped him stay up until they got into his room, until Shawn realized he was in the arms of a murderer and started flailing and yelling until Matt tossed him on the floor and kicked him.   
  
That stunned him enough and he stopped – he didn’t know where the gun went after all – and got up holding his side, staying as calm as possible.   
  
“Who was he?”   
  
“A business partner, but it doesn’t matter.” Matt said with a dismissing gesture. “Let’s just lay this out. You were there and saw the whole thing so when the cops find his body out in a stolen car tomorrow morning and start to canvas this hotel, you are going to tell them you were here with me all night. Then you are going to leave with me to Miami. Understand?”   
  
***   
  
It did happen exactly how Matt said it would, except for one thing. Shawn slipped out on him and was miles out of Austin but the time morning came.   
  
He didn’t stop until he reached New Orleans.   
  
_~End Flashback~_   
  
It all started coming back rather slowly, first black, then a fuzzy grey that started to morph into objects; a desk, a broken chair and a shiny black pair of shoes.   
  
Shawn knew those shoes.   
  
“Welcome back Shawnie,” The voice above him said as one of those shoes was shoved hard under his side flipping him onto his back twisting his hands that were cuffed to the leg of a desk. “I can’t remember you ever being out this long.”   
  
“Never reenacted RAW before.”   
  
“Hmmm, at least you are still familiar with handcuffs, I guess I have that white knight of yours to thank for that.”   
  
“You’re delusional.”   
  
Matt glared hard at him and Shawn was forced to avert his eyes.   
  
“I don’t think I am.” He said back handed him and Shawn’s face smashed into the floor. “You can’t lie to me Shawnie. You never could, but now it doesn’t matter. See, I remember that little gift of yours very well. All this psychic shit is ridiculous, but I remember that look in your eyes just as well as I remember every line and of your body and I know you knew I did it from the beginning. I’m just wondering Shawnie, why didn’t you go blabbing to your pet detective. Afraid he might drop you for lying to everyone, lying to him. Afraid that once he locked me up I’d tell him everything? How you love to be slapped around, bruised and bloodied? Or even worse, how you killed that man in Austin?”   
  
Shawn gritted his teeth against the mention.   
  
“I didn’t kill anyone you fucking bastard” he spit out against the blood coming from his split lip.   
  
“Ah, but they don’t know that. You were there, in the room and look” Matt pulled a gun from where it’d been tucked in the small of his back. “Here’s the very same gun. You could have stopped it, but you didn’t do a thing, except lie to the police about it. Isn’t there a law for that, accomplice?”   
  
Matt got up from where he’d been crouching, and began to walk around Shawn’s grounded form, kicking him back over and putting a foot on his shoulder. “But, none of this matters. You’re a liability now babe, and as much fun as we could have had again, it’s gotta to end here.” There was a loud click, one sound that Shawn knew well enough, even if he couldn’t see behind him; Matt just cocked the gun. “I’ll remember you fondly Shawn Spencer.”   
  
This was it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Shawn always knew it was going to happen like this. It was his fault. He always got into trouble, always with out a moments thought. All of it was over thrown by one single though as he closed his eyes waiting. He wished Lassiter was what Matt had said he was, because he’d be here.   
  
BANG!


	9. Chapter 9

If this was death - darkness and a piercing ringing in his ears - Shawn was severely disappointed; he was sure it was going to be a cross between the explosive fun of ‘The A-Team’ and the coolness of Judd Nelson in ‘The Breakfast Club’. But as the ringing started to disappear he could hear shouts and orders resounding all around him but he didn’t feel anything.

Cracking an eye open, he saw a bullet hole in the floor, just a few inches off the mark, right next to his head. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he flinched away, sure that it was Matt, screwing with his final moments of his life and he just had to wait for the next bang. But there were hands unlocking the handcuffs and turning him over gently.

“Spencer, are you ok….Shawn?” Lassiter’s dread filled blue eyes locked with his before flooding with relief as the man spoke, voice shaking.

“Lassie? Where’d you come from?”

Before he was able to answer, Juliet rushed over to Shawn, doe-eyed and concerned, while Lassiter stepped back letting anger take over from his relief and rounded on a sneering, but fearful looking Matt Harris who was being restrained by McNab.

“Matt Harris,” Lassiter grabbed him from the officer as roughly as he could without crossing a line and spun him against the wall hard, twisting his arms back painfully. “You are under arrest for the murder of James Hobbes and the attempted murder of Shawn Spencer” Putting on the cuffs as tight as he could, while reciting the last of the Miranda Rights, Carlton flung the man back to McNab, afraid that if he took him in himself, Harris wouldn’t make it there alive.

As Lassiter turned back to the paramedics now surrounding Shawn with Juliet cooing over him and Henry rushing onto the scene, even among the noise and frenzy Shawn caught his eye and gave him a wink mouthing, ‘I owe you.’ Before he was taken away and Lassiter was left doing detective-ly things at the scene.

***

 _1 Week Later_

“They’re closing Magnum.” O’Hara came in finding Lassiter at his desk and dropping the paper in front of him. “Looks like some urban renewal foundation is going to buy it.”

“Good.”

Juliet frowned, “That’s all you have to say? It was your bust and Shawn will be fine. You should be happy.”

“There’ll just be another club,” Lassiter said getting up and putting some files away “and we can always count on Spencer doing something stupid.”

“Well, at least Matt Harris is in prison for good.”

Lassiter ‘hmmmed’ a response and Juliet knew she wasn’t going to get anything else from him, so she left him brooding without another word.

Back at his desk, Lassiter distractedly opened a couple of emails, glanced at a file, trying to feel busy but it just wasn’t working. It wasn’t that he wanted to be so glum and he wasn’t the jolliest person usually by any means but even to himself Carlton had to admit that there was a certain amount of worry and confusion distracting him. No matter how hard he’d tried, every night he’d go home lay in bed and remember the scene at the club and the moment that he was so close to being to late. But that image would quickly devolve into the memory of the man kissing him. He had to do something about this, O’Hara was noticing and it was just a matter of time until the Chief did.

“O’Hara,” Lassiter called grabbing his jacket and heading toward the door. “I’m taking the rest of the day off, let the chief know.”

***

Henry had kicked Shawn out of the house, having fulfilled his duty of making sure in his own perverse fatherly way that his son was going to be fine. So finally Shawn was release from the paternal claws and safely able to kick back at his own place.

Shawn had collapsed down on the couch and flicked the TV on immediately upon his return; grateful that the back ground noise now was neither Henry nor COPS. The only issue now was that he was finally alone enough to think about what had happened. He could just forget it all and leave again; no one would stop him this time. It would cut down on any questions fired at him the next time he was in the station, but that just didn’t seem like an option anymore. As he shifted on the couch, a twinge in his still bruised body told him it physically wasn’t an option at the moment anyways.

A huge part of his past that he’d kept relatively hidden from his life now had been shoved out in the open but in the end that had turned out alright. Henry now knew that his son was bisexual, and in his words that was “fine”, and as far as the SBPD was concerned, well they just didn’t care. The world had progressed a lot since 1992, especially in California.

And then there was Lassiter.

“Carlton.” Shawn mumbled out loud but shook his head at how weird the name sounded. “Carly…” That was almost just as bad. No, it was “Lassie.” That definitely sounded better.

But what exactly was the lanky detective to him? That was the question swirling around Shawn’s mind when there was a knock on the door.

“Lassie?!” Shawn answered the door. “What are you doing here so early?”

Lassiter almost didn’t overcome the need to check his watch and remind the younger man that it was late afternoon. “I…Spen…Shawn. Can I come in?”

With out a hesitation Shawn moved aside and let the detective in.

Before Lassiter could say anything Shawn started talking in a tired voice. “Lassie if you’re here to reexamine my stupidity and carelessness you can just leave. I’ve already heard the lecture from Henry for seven day straight. I don’t need it from you too.”

He collapsed on his couch and Carlton silently took the adjacent seat. “Yes, I could do all that because you deserve it. But that isn’t why I’m here and you know it.”

Any the tension in the room left and despite being so tired Shawn relaxed and grinned openly.

“I never took you for the talking openly type lassie.”

“I’m divorced Shawn. I learn from my mistakes.”

“And what mistakes have you learned from in the past week?”

“Apart from never trusting calls from you late at night?” Lassiter looked at him pointedly. “Don’t take people you…like, for granted.”

“You’re not going to get all mushy with me are you?”

Carlton rolled his eyes. “I will leave if you don’t take any of this a little bit seriously Spencer.”

“Then I will just be doing this.” Shawn got up, plopped himself in Carlton’s lap and kissed him. It wasn’t like the first one, it wasn’t one sided, at least not after Carlton got over his initial surprise. It held the seriousness he was looking for as well as all the silliness that was Shawn Spencer. Not to mention a hint of sweet pineapple.

Shawn broke the kiss first. “You’re not shoving me off your lap this time.”

“No.”

Shawn kissed him again quickly before getting up and grabbing Carlton by the hand, pulling him up, and leading him toward the bedroom. That’s where Lassiter put on the breaks.

“Shawn, I…I came here to tell you that…this is a little too fast.” Carlton said sheepishly. “Maybe I should just go.”

“Are you kidding Lassie? As much as I’d love too I haven’t actually sleep since I was knocked out by a chair. If you don’t mind, I’d just love a nap with my shiny new Lassie-pillow.”

Shawn pulled him down to the bed, snuggled up and was asleep within minutes.

***

Sometime during the night Carlton woke to a warm body lying half on top of him. He couldn’t remember falling asleep but it must not have been that much after Shawn had.

This was different and weird, but good. What had Shawn called him? A Lassie-pillow? A couple of weeks back he’d have scoffed at that and probably called a 5150 on himself if he had even thought that he’d be in bed with Shawn Spencer because it was definitely some kind of insanity.

“Lassie, go back to sleep.” A mumbled voice came from the vicinity of his shoulder, it made him smile. Insane yes, but if felt right. So he tightened his hold and did just that.

***

“Shawn, what did I tell you?” Gus said cutting he friend off from what ever story he was about to tell. “I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Well, that’s going to be a bit of a problem…”

“Why, because you just can’t keep your mouth shut once in a while?”

“That’s not it G…”

“Shawn who is that… Oh...” Lassiter paused only for a second before coming into the kitchen, freshly showered, but in his rumpled clothes from yesterday, and walked right into the pair.

Gus looked at him wide-eyed, then back at Shawn, then back again.

“Lassie’s here.”

“I can see that Shawn thanks.” Gus gritted out before turning to Lassiter and wishing him a very stiff ‘good morning’, before walking to the door. “See you at work Shawn.”

“Do you think it would be easier on him if I called you Carly?”

“IF you do, you can forget about this.” Carlton pointed between the two of them.

Shawn turned from pouring the coffee to look at Carlton a huge goofy grin on his face.

“So does this mean I get to play damsel in distress more often?”

“Shawn, I swear to god if you ever pull what you did in the past week again I will lock you up and throw away the key.”

“Is that a promise?”

Carlton just shook his head “And this doesn’t mean you’ll be getting in on all my cases. You’re still a menace.”

“Yeah, but at least I’m your menace.” Shawn said cheekily before kissing him chastely and walking off into the bed room with a laugh.

 **THE END**


End file.
